


Houses

by therev



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-19
Updated: 2008-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 08:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therev/pseuds/therev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean keeps getting possessed in different haunted houses. Sammy keeps getting fondled in the same houses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Houses

It first happened in the old Miller house, a broken down colonial that had not only seen better days but better centuries. And the thing that happened only happened because Dean was posessed and the demon either had a sense of humor or a taste for younger brothers because Sam found himself pinned beneath his brother's weight, Dean's mouth on his, Dean's hands in places a brother's hands ought not to be.

The thing was so busy getting its jollies off that Sam managed half an exorcism, muffled and sloppy though it may have been, before it vacated, his brother and the house, but not before giving Sam a surprising look of hurt through Dean's eyes.

"Dude," Dean said, sat up, still straddling his baby brother, pulled his hand from where it was sticky and warm and looked at it. "What the fuck."

"Yeah," Sam said.  
___

Months later it happened in the not-so-old Kowalski house. It was brick and safe-looking. The family had moved out less than a week before after the kid went to the hospital with a concussion and something about flying shoes. Like the Miller house, it should have been a haunting. But it wasn't.

They were on the second story landing when it happened again, dark but for moonlight from a high window even though they could have had the lights on. They were supposed to have split up but there was Dean in Sam's flashlight beam.

He was stark naked.

This time when Dean came back to himself Sam thought he was going to cry. He gave a little whimper but then sniffed hard in his macho Dean way, wiped his hand on his pants except that his pants were gone so he only smeared it on his thigh. He looked down in disgust.

He looked at Sam. "Next time," he said, "exorcise faster."  
____

When it happened again it was a tiny shack with a long-standing local legend of hauntings, the kind with such wildly different accounts that it was safe to assume some of them had to be true, and they should have been safe. But they weren't.

They tried to stay together in the musty dark, but Dean dropped out of sight in a sudden tumbling crash having found the cellar. By the time Sam picked his brother up off the dirt floor Dean was all hands and mouth, pulling Sam down and close, mouth roaming with need but slower than before, more careful. And even though the first words of the exorcism sped from Sam's lips in a practiced rush, he quickly began to slur and mumble and he almost forgot he was tyring at all.

When Dean was Dean again he punched Sam in the face, then adjusted himself, zipped his pants, and stomped up the cellar stairs.  
____

It didn't happen again. It almost happened, though.

The Black house adjoined the First Methodist Church of some backwoods town, famed to be haunted by the dead preacher's equally dead wife. It was a simple clapboard affair, quaint in its prime, now only vaguely creepy, especiallly in comparison to the hulking church beside it, steeple towering ominously, unnaturally white in the gloom.

It wasn't the preacher's wife that shook the boards and slammed the cupboard doors, but she was there.

"It tells me it wants you," she said to them. She was talking to Sam who stood calmly next to Dean who stood with a sawed-off full of saltrock aimed at the spectre, finger on the trigger. "It tells me it can't," she said, and gestured with one small, gloved hand toward Dean who twitched but Sam grabbed the stubby barell of the gun and poked Dean hard in the chest where the tattoo peaked from beneath his shirt collar.

"It is very bothersome," she almost pouted.

"Yeah, no shit," Dean said.

"I beg you to make it go away," she said. But there was nothing they could do and they told her so and she turned and faded miserably into the yellowed primrose wallpaper.

"This thing isn't going to stop, Dean," Sam said.

"Dude," Dean said, "she was kind of a fox."  
____

In the Smith house, a renovated barn sitting square in the middle of miles of quiet pasture, the thing came prepared, brought its own passer-by, a lean farmboy type in faded jeans and worn lace ropers.

Sam stood alone in the kitchen, hands working the empty air at his sides, anxious. The demon watched him hrough the boy's hay-colored eyes, shifted its weight in the young body it wore.

"What do you want?" he asked it.

It stepped forward. He stepped back. It stepped forward then stopped.

"Devil's Trap," Dean said as he appeared from his hiding place in the pantry, but the demon was not surprised, and the farmboy only reached for Sam, toes at the edge of the painted circle hidden beneath the woven rug. Dean walked between the boy and Sam, slapped his hand away, pulled a book out of his jacket and began to say the words. But Sam stepped in front of him.

"Wait," he said.

It touched Sam's face with fingers cold but without malice. Sam saw the look he'd seen in Dean's eyes that first time, and thought maybe he recognized it from somewhere else. He stepped forward.

"Sammy," Dean said.  
___

In a hotel room in South Carolina, Sam asked Dean if he'd been aware during the posessions. Dean pretended to be asleep and Sam clicked the bedside light on and off until Dean snored softly.

He asked again while they were locked in an attic in Saginaw and Dean couldn't pretend. Bobby found them in the morning, tangled together, asleep under a pile of old halloween costumes and a yellowed wedding dress.  
____

Sam thought he saw the demon again in a backroom at Bobby's place while Dean jerked him off between them and he had pulled Dean's head back to get at his neck and caught that same look in Dean's eyes. But the demon was long gone, he knew.

He came in Dean's hand and bit Dean's throat and then kissed him there, then held his face, making Dean look up at him. He ran fingers over closed eyelids, felt Dean's eyes rolling beneath them, and kissed those too.


End file.
